


Amnesia

by CollateralDamage666



Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollateralDamage666/pseuds/CollateralDamage666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fight against another Contractor ends up being more than Hei can handle and he finishes the battle with more than just physical wounds to show for it. He doesn't remember his past, his name, his powers. All he knows is that he's different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall into Darkness

Hei weaved through the back alleys like a shadow, the pursuing voices of the police officers falling away as he widened the distance between them. The sirens were blending in with the rest of the city noises until they had vanished, along with the voices. He was in the clear. Slowing down to a quick walk, he removed his mask, breathing in the cool night air. Above him, a star fell, signaling the death of another Contractor. They seemed to be falling more frequently lately and he wondered just how much more time would pass before all the stars had fallen from the sky. Even his own.

A trashcan clattered somewhere to his right, and he turned, ready to throw an attack the person's way. But there was nothing but a lowly alley cat peering out at him from the darkness. It dashed away at the sight of him, its tail fluffed up to twice its size. He relaxed, continuing on his way, but never fully putting his guard down. City traffic was growing louder now as he made his way out from the slums of the city, heading towards the center.

"Stop right there, BK-201!"

He halted, clutching his mask tightly in his hand. He heard a gun being cocked from behind him. Reaching his hand up slowly to put his mask back on, he felt the gun hit his back, right between his shoulder blades.

"Put your hands above your head and turn around slowly."  
Hei glared at nothing in particular and began to do as she asked, "You know… it's not the best idea to place the gun directly against the person's back. It makes it easy for them-" he slipped his mask back on and twisted around, slapping the gun out of her hand before slamming her into a wall, a hand wrapped around her neck and his other hand holding her arms above her head, "to do that."

She looked at him with fear in her eyes and he recognized her as the part of the Foreign Affairs Division 4. Kirihara Misaki. He had been running into her a little too much for his comfort lately, especially when he had been on his own little missions and she just happened to show up. She knew his alias already and he couldn't afford to let her know anything else. It was probably best to just kill her.

Blue seemed to glow from him and his eyes turned a shining red as he stared down at her, her eyes still wide in fear. His hand gripped her neck tighter and she tried to squirm out of his grasp, kicking him desperately, but never making a difference in her matter. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that someone was pointing a gun at him. He released his grip and threw himself backwards, crouching to the ground. The bullet chipped the ground farther down the alley and the loud bang came after it. He threw a knife at the shooter, a member of Misaki's team, and was glad to see the knife hit its mark, tearing through the man's shoulder.

Before either of them could recover, he set off in a quick run again, dashing around a corner to break their line of sight of him. Moving as fast as he could, he tried to put some distance between them, but he could hear Misaki pursuing him all the same. She was following him blindly, hoping she was going in the same direction he was. Unluckily for him, she was somehow managing to follow him. Hei frowned in frustration at both her and himself. He had almost been caught back there. She had almost seen who he was. He couldn't allow himself to get sloppy like that again. There was no time for relaxing.

He dashed out into open space, running over a paved courtyard to the buildings beyond. About halfway across, he sensed someone watching him from the shadows and came to a stop, wondering where they were. Were they another Contractor? If so, where were they? Misaki ran out from the buildings, joining him in the courtyard. She brought her gun back up, pointing it directly at him, puzzled at why he had stopped in the middle of the courtyard instead of continuing.

"Turn around right now and don't try anything funny," she yelled at him, cautiously walking towards him. The outline of his body began to glow blue and, thinking that it was BK-201 activating his power, she fired off a shot, shooting him in the back of his left leg. He let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees, a hand gripping the wound. But yet he still continued to glow.

"I told you not to try anything. Turn off your power now, or I will be forced to shoot you in the back of the head!"

"It's not me," Hei hissed, and she stopped, confused, "I'm not using my power. Someone else is using their power on me."

Her brow furrowed as she wondered whether she should trust him or not. Before she could come to a conclusion on her own, his body suddenly shot up into the air, floating, then was sent flying backwards, past her and smashed into a side of a building. The wall of the building cracked and he grunted in pain before collapsing to the ground, his entire body screaming in agony. A few bones in his body were probably broken or fractured but now wasn't the time to worry about them. The back of his head felt wet and a liquid was slipping under his mask, covering his skin. Blood.

He staggered back to his feet, his eyes darting around to try to find the other Contractor. Footsteps to the right caught his attention and both he and Misaki turned towards them, ready to fight. A wispy man stepped out form the shadows, humming a little tune to himself. His hair was long, with bangs framing his face and the rest of it pulled back into a floppy ponytail. He wore a brown trench coat open to reveal his fancy dress suit underneath it. An umbrella was tucked under his arm and a large scar ran from the left side of his mouth, as if it had been cut open with a knife. His fingers were snapping in the air to the tune coming from his throat and a large ring was on his right hand's index finger.

"You really shouldn't move after something like that, Black Reaper. You probably sustained a concussion," he waved his arm, his body glowing blue and Misaki watched in horror as BK-201 was thrown back into the building once more, this time smashing through the wall. The middle of the courtyard began to glow blue and began to crumble. She threw herself backwards, trying to get away from the collapsing cement, but she wasn't quick enough. The ground underneath her cracked and began to fall inwards, towards the gaping hole. As she plummeted down, she tried to reach back to safety, but her hands fell short.

She saw a flash of metal shoot out and something wrapped itself around her arm, some kind of wire with a metal clip in the end. She continued to fall, but not as quickly as usual. Hei, who had been the one to thrown the object around her arm, tumbled out of the building, being dragged over the ground. He finally stopped at the edge of the hole, the wire still attached to both her and to his belt. He clicked the mechanism to bring her back up and turned to his side so he could watch both her progress and the Contractor, who was slowly skirting the hole to get over to his side. He didn't know if he would throw him into a wall again, but he wouldn't put it past the man to do so again. Misaki was almost to the edge of the hole now and Hei could hear more footsteps making their way to their location, the rest of her team. The other Contractor was doing something now that Hei couldn't quite make out.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Hei looked over to see the man he had gotten with his knife earlier, holding his gun up in his left hand. The other fighting members of Division 4 were around him, their guns also drawn. They didn't see the other man at first until he finally revealed what he had been doing earlier. A piece of metal glinted in the starlight as it shot towards Hei and Misaki. It had enough power behind it to slice cleanly though the wire.

Misaki let out a cry as she felt the wire give and gravity take over again. He quickly flipped onto his stomach and reached out, grabbing onto her wrist just in time. He really had no clue as to why he was rescuing this women so many times that night, but something was telling him that she would be useful later on. Maybe as bait? The other's attention was now completely focused on the other Contractor, their weapons aimed at him.

They let off a few shots and he just brushed a bullet out of the air, letting the others fly past him harmlessly, and continued coming towards them. Hei could feel Misaki slipping from his grip and he quickly reached down, grabbing her arm with both of his hands. His entire body was in pain, screaming in protest at his actions. He felt a hand grab the back of his jacket and hoist him up, his grip still tight on the woman. As soon as her feet were back on solid ground, Hei was shoved to the side.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm fine, Saito. I wasn't the person thrown into a building twice," she replied, searching around for her gun. Most likely, she had dropped it into the hole in her confusion. She was powerless now and she hated that. Hei hobbled away from them, his left leg dragging behind him, blood pouring profusely from the bullet wound. He slid another knife from his belt, looking over his surroundings, formulating a plan in his mind. There was only one change to get this right, so he had to do this right. Ignoring the pain, he broke out into a run, his left leg felt like it was being sawed off. His body began to glow again from the man using his power on him.

"Now, now, Black Reaper. Didn't you learn your lesson the first two times I threw you into a wall? Maybe the third time will be the trick."

Hei let the knife go, watching it sail through the air while his body flew backwards. Just as he had suspected, the man could only control one thing at a time and decided to continue to concentrate it on Hei instead of moving it to the knife. That he just moved out of the way of and let it sail harmlessly past him. Hei's body slammed into another building and white-hot pain erupted behind his eyes. The world went black and he slumped to the ground again.

The knife hit a metal pipe, cracking it open. Water sprayed out from the pipe, drenching him and pooling on the ground. Hei stirred, coming back to consciousness, if he had left it at all. He couldn't really tell anymore. The pain in his head felt like someone was hitting it with a hammer. He stumbled to his feet and rushed the man, who was trying to get his hair and the water out of his eyes. While he was temporarily blind, Hei needed to land his attack. Unfortunately, his time on the ground had been too long and his time was running thin.

He crouched at the edge of the water pool, dipping his fingers into the liquid. His eyes glowed red and his body got its blue glow as he flipped on his power. The man flipped his hair out of his face, his eyes murderous and beginning to glow red as well as he started his again, too. Hei didn't think he would be able to handle being thrown once more. Nothing but death or a coma would await him there. He sent electricity through the water, which quickly ran through the man's body. He screamed in pain but not for long. He had lifted himself out of the water, away from the electricity lurking in the liquid.

The man used himself as a weapon now, throwing himself at Hei, trying to land a punch on him. Hei danced out of the reach of them or slapped them out of the way. The man landed, spinning into a kick that Hei arched away from, leaning backwards. His left leg still protesting at every move he made. He shot back up just in time to block a punch and give one of his own, catching the man in one of his kidneys. The man threw another punch, but Hei grabbed his wrist and kicked on of the man's feet out from under him, lifting the man over his shoulder and throwing him down onto the ground.

The man landed a kick to Hei's mask and he reeled back, blood pouring from his nose. He heard the sound of a crack from his mask and a hair thin line ran through it jaggedly. His mask wouldn't survive another blow like that; he had to be more careful. The man was back on his feet now, his body glowing and floating in the air once more. Hei pulled out his last knife and held it in front of him in a defensive stance. The police were doing a great job helping by just standing there and doing absolutely nothing but watching the fight fold out in front of them. They weren't exactly sure who they should shoot. One of them they had been chasing for what seemed like forever, yet seemed to be protecting them, while the other one seemed perfectly ready to just kill them all off while he could.

"Give me your gun, Saito," Misaki finally growled as she watched the masked man and the other continue to attack each other, twisting around with their odd martial art skills that seemed to be unique to each Contractor unless they were from a group.

"Huh? What?" The big man looked down at her, a confused expression on his face, holding a hand to his still bleeding wound. She held out her hand and he just slid his gun into her hand without another word. Bringing it up, she slowed her breathing, trying to steady her body and her arms. They couldn't afford screwing up when two Contractors that could easily kill them were right in front of them. She fired off a shot, which missed, but allowed BK-201 enough time to dash forward and slice his knife over the man's chest. He floated backwards in pain, holding the wound with one of his arms, and landed, his body still glowing.

A rock shot out from the darkness behind BK-201, striking him in his bullet wound. He gasped in pain and fell to the ground, his breathing coming heavy and hard. It felt like his lungs were shutting down or filled with blood. He could be bleeding internally right into his lungs. His body was in so much pain, that he figured he wouldn't even be able to tell if it was or not. Black dots swirled in front of his eyes and his limbs refused to cooperate with him. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, one of Yin's observation spirits disappear from the water Hei had created earlier, and which was still growing, now spilling into the massive hole. Maybe help was on the way, though he wasn't sure how much help his team would actually be if they actually arrived.

The other contractor turned on the police force, his focus now on them entirely since they had contributed in him being wounded. He growled in frustration and was about to float over to them, when Hei reached out, grabbing the man by the ankle, keeping him down. The man rewarded him with another swift kick to the face and Hei felt his mask give away, ducking his head down a little so the police wouldn't see his face behind his hanging hair.

The man landed and now it was Hei's turn to fly again. He was sent sailing past the police into another wall. He coughed up blood upon impact and his entire body went numb as fell to the ground. Everything felt distant now, even the shots that rang out from the police force's guns. His brain was shutting off, cranking to a stop. He was slowly dying and yet he made himself get up once more. He couldn't die here. He couldn't afford dying like a dog. With an uncharacteristic roar, he took a running leap onto the man, plowing him into the ground. The skid close to the edge of the hole and Hei really wished that both of them had tumbled into its darkness.

The man kicked Hei in the chest, sending him flying off. He landed on the ground hard and all the air in his lungs left his body. He coughed, blood running out of his mouth and down his cheeks. He swallowed it, trying to get the metallic taste out of his mouth. The night sky above him was twisting, dimming, only to start twisting the other way and brightening the next second. He couldn't even move now, all his strength had left him.

His body began to glow and he felt himself float upwards. The man was going to drop him into the whole like a sack of trash. He felt himself maneuver so he was vertical and his head lolled backwards, staring up at the stars again. His feet brushed the edge of the hole and he was miraculously set down right there. The man had discontinued the hold of his power on him, but why? He looked down at the man, not caring that he was showing his face to the police force anymore. He heard Misaki gasp in shock as she recognized him.

A sharp pain in his side made him look down, shocked to find his knife plunged deep into his gut. It was still glowing blue from the man's power. He looked up at the man once more, feeling himself teetering backwards. The man was moving towards him, a smile on his face at the apparent victory. With sudden strength, Hei ripped the blade from his side, twirled it, and stuck it into the man's gut. His eyes widened in shock at Hei's movement and that was the last thing Hei saw before he fell backwards, a smug smile gracing his lips even when he hit the bottom.

 


	2. Awaken

It hurt. Everything hurt, even the lights above. His arms were bound, but he didn't bother moving. He didn't have enough strength and his body hurt too much for that. A beeping sound came from next to him, keeping time with his heart. He wanted to look around, but the slightest movement sent sharp pains radiating throughout his entire body. He was at grateful that he could at least blink without feeling any pain from the small movement. Slowly he began to move his fingers bit by bit, overcoming the pain until he could curl the digits into a fist with minimal pain, loosening up the tendon and bones.

A murmuring sound came to his ears, someone's voice, lowly speaking to another. He wanted to open his mouth, call to them and let them know he was there, that he was awake, at least, but a breathing mask over his face prevented him from doing so, not that he figured he could muster the strength in the first place. His voice would probably just crack and die in his throat before it even made it to his mouth and past his lips. The voices grew louder and he heard the swish of fabric as part of the curtain was moved aside and someone peered through the gap in at him. He could only move his eyes to glance at the intruder and, even then, they had darted back out so fast he hardly caught a glimpse of them.

He glanced down at his body, noting all the white around him. The sheets were white, the clothes he was wearing were white even the casts and bandages were white. The back of his left leg was aching more than the rest of his body. Not to mention about every square inch of his body was itching underneath the casts. His eyes felt heavy again and he let them close once more, but didn't slip back into sleep, but hung there in a suspended state. Blackness was all around him but the sounds of life were still seeping through between the cracks and situating itself in the corners of his mind. He heard the rustling of the curtain echo through his mind, as though it came from a distance and traveled far to reach his brain. Voices murmured, louder than the last one he had heard while fully awake, but still distorted by the state he was in.

"I thought you said he was awake?"

"He was when I looked in here. His eyes were open, at least."

They were both female, he noted. But whether he should open his eyes again and let them know he was awake or to keep them closed was beyond him. He had no clue what to do, really. Someone's clothes whispered next to him as they neared the machines attached to him and they checked the monitors.

"I swear he was awake. Maybe I just thought his eyes were open..." they drifted off and the other woman sighed. He opened his eyes again, startling them both. The other woman rushed to the side of the bed to peer down at him. His sight became blurry before he could get a clear picture of her and he felt his eyes begin to close again.

"Hey, wait," she snapped, "Stay with us, dammit."

He allowed his eyes to open back up, barely able to focus on her. All he wanted was to rest here. Was that so much to ask? She leaned back and said something to the other woman, who scurried out of his vision, the curtain moving as she did.

"Can you hear me?"

His throat didn't respond to his signals, nor did his head feel ready to move. He didn't exactly want to feel sharp pains pierce his brain again. Instead, he resorted to clenching his fist, the only part of him that he could bear to move. For some reason if he tried to move the fingers on his other hand, more pain would come from it. She noticed the movement and grabbed his chin in her hand. He groaned in discomfort, his brow furrowing in pain, and she quickly let him go with an apologetic glance.

"Clench your hand for yes and don't for no, okay?'

He wriggled his fingers and then bent them back into a fist, his eyes never leaving her.

"Do you know where you are?"

He let his hand relax.

She frowned, but continued, "Do you know why you're here?"

His hand stayed the same and her frown deepened. Apparently she wasn't getting the answers she wanted.

"Do you remember anything that happened to put you here?" She asked in an almost desperate voice. His eyes left hers for the first time as he looked up at the ceiling, and the smallest of frowns found its way to his face as he concentrated. He swallowed deeply before his eyes looked back at her.

"No," he managed to croak out. Her face was that of shock and exasperation as she backed away from him. She didn't know what to do now, so she awkwardly brought her hand up to bump her glasses back up on her nose. He blinked a few times to try and clearer view of her, but he still couldn't see her features clearly. His eyes wanted to close again, growing heavy. She must have noticed his drowsiness, as she caught his eyes again.

"You tired?"

As answer, he let his eyes close and this time he actually slid into sleep quite quickly, his breathing evening out.

* * *

His eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling. Where was he? He sat up quickly, the tubes attached to him stretched to their capacity, tugging at his skin. His gut felt like it was being sliced open with a dull knife and pain shot through his entire body. He let out a cry of pain, cursing at himself as he let his body fall back down, a layer of sweat already coating his forehead. His breath came in short gasps as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Next to him, the monitors were beeping rapidly as his vitals went all over the place. The curtain was shoved to the side as doctors rushed in to check what was happening. His face contorted in pain as more agony stabbed his body, his hands gripping at the sheets as his teeth clattered in his skull. A cold sweat was covering his entire body now. A hand landed on his forearm and he looked at who it was. The woman from earlier was leaning over him, her lips moving but he couldn't quite catch the words. They became lost somewhere in the air on the way to his ears. Finally, he caught it.

"Relax. Just relax. Clenching up like this is not helping your sore muscles and wounds," she squeezed his bicep with her other hand and he clenched his eyes, trying to make his body relax, but it seemed impossible. He made his breathing slow down and his muscles relaxed slowly. The beeping of the machines slowed down to a regular speed and everyone backed away from the bed a little to let out a sigh of relief. He opened his eyes again and looked at the woman, whose hands were still on his arm. She seemed to realize this at the same time and quickly removed them, stepping back and tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, her gaze avoiding him.

He reached up and removed the air mask from his face, letting it rest at his neck, air still hissing out of it. Taking in a few breaths, he felt his body finally relax completely and the pain fled from his body. His head fell father back into his pillow he let out a shaky breath as his body returned back to normal. Someone reached up to put the mask back on his face, but he swatted their hand away. They exchanged a look amongst themselves at the action, but pulled the mask off gently, shutting the air off. The annoying hissing stopped and he shut his eyes in relaxation for a second before reopening them as something cool circled his wrists, followed by a clicking nose as it tightened.

He cracked his eyes open and strained to see what was around his wrists without sitting up again. Finally he glimpsed the metal circling his wrist. Handcuffs. They were attaching him to the bed for whatever reason he couldn't remember. He tugged at them, testing them, and they bit into his wrists. They were definitely sturdy and wouldn't come off anytime soon unless the people removed them on their own with a key. All the doctors eventually left, leaving him alone with the woman with glasses, who was busy pushing them farther up on her nose to distract her self and staring at the watch on her wrist, as though waiting for someone.

Finally, after he stared at her for a while, she walked to the side of his bed, peering down at him, "Any better today or do you still not remember what put you here?"

"…car accident?" He put his best guess forward, though he probably wasn't right with all the weird treatment he was getting at this hospital. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger, accidently making her glasses slide down her nose again. While she awkwardly pushed her glasses back up, the curtain moved to the side and some men walked in, their eyes gazing at him in a distrusting way, like they were wary of him. He pulled a little on the cuffs and settled back into the bed. They had gathered into a little group to whisper amongst themselves, glancing over their shoulders at his nearly still form.

"Go ahead and talk about me. I'm tired anyway," he murmured, slurring his word as his eyes slid shut again. He momentarily wondered why he was so tired despite all the sleep he had been getting lately. He was awake just long enough to hear a few words uttered from their little group.

"So we've finally caught The Black Reaper… now what?"

* * *

By the next week he was much better, even able to move his body a bit without withering around in pain. His gut, where he had apparently been stabbed was the worst part of his body, still radiating pain through his stomach. The back of his left leg still throbbed dully from what he had discovered was a bullet wound, but it was bearable now. The IVs in his arms were beginning to become irritating, even though one was giving him the nutrients he needed to survive, not that his stomach thanked him for that. He was starving and suspected that his stomach was currently trying to consume itself. As if knowing that someone was needed, the woman with glasses pushed her way through the curtain, stopping suddenly upon noticing that he was awake.

He pulled at the cuffs, "Any chance I can get these taken off?"

"No. They are they as a precautionary measure incase you try to attempt an escape."

"They only place I'd like to escape to is the cafeteria. Is it too much to ask for a little sustenance? This tube of gunk here isn't doing my stomach much good."

They stared at each other for a while before the woman finally blinked in shock, "Um, yes, of course. I can get some food over here for you and that removed from your arm if you're feeling up for it."

"Yes, please. I need food and a lot of it. Maybe a whole table covered in food will be enough."

"I don't know what I can do about that, but I'll see what I can do," she back right out of the area, completely confused as to what had happened.

When she returned with a tray with one plate on it, she moved the table that slid over the bed over to the side, positioning the shelf in front of him before placing the tray on it. Next she pressed the button to tilt up the top of the bed so he could sit up a little. She stopped it as soon as she say the smallest of grimaces cross his face and standing back.  
"This is it?" He asked after a while, looking up at her.

"Look, trust me, you may feel extremely hungry, but your body still can't take that much at this moment. The same thing goes with your stomach. You have to give it all some time."

He jangled his right hand against the bed, the chain of the cuff clinking, "Um… a little help here?"  
"You sure you're strong enough to feed yourself?"

"I'm fine, now please release me."

She hesitantly released his cuff and he eagerly picked up the chopsticks, positing them in his hand. That was when he realized that she had been right. He actually was too weak to feed himself. He could feel his whole hand and arm shaking with the mere effort of holding the chopsticks in his hand correctly. He practiced using them just once in the air and immediately lost his grip of them. The tumbled out of his hand, clattering onto his tray. He picked them up again and only got the same result. He slowly looked up at her, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Would it be too much to ask for a fork?"  
"Yes, it would. You're already in an awkward position to eat. Just wait a little bit," she turned and left, returning a few minutes later with a fork in her hand.

He quirked his eyebrows, "I thought you said it was too much to ask for a fork?"

"Just sit back," she growled, pulling up a stool. She stabbed the fork into a bowl of rice, scooping up some and carefully bringing it to his mouth. He opened it obediently once the fork neared his lips and scraped the rice off the utensil. She continued feeding him until all of the rice was gone from the small bowl. Next, she stuck a straw into a glass of water, letting him relieve his parched mouth. Even after feeding him the rest of the food that she had brought, he was still hungry and she went back for another tray of food despite the fact that she didn't want to. Finally, after the fourth tray of food, he said he was full and she let out a sigh of relief as he settled back in his bed, his stomach finally content, his eyes closing.

"Before you fall back asleep," he jerked his eyes back open fully and stared at her, "I want to ask you a few more questions, BK-201. What is your real nam-"

"BK-201? What's that?"

She blinked, wondering if he was pulling her leg, but his eyes looked so innocent. She knew that contractors were excellent liars, so there was a possibility that he was just pretending right now.

"Li, please don't lie to me."

He squinted, "Li? Is that my name? Or is it BK-201? I don't…"

His head began to throb and he grimaced, reaching up to hold his head in his hand. He let out a strangled breath and he heard the woman move quickly next to him, reaching towards the button to lower his bed back down. It made no difference, though, as his head continued to beat like a drum. She reached over to the morphine machine, upping the amount until it was as high as it could go, although they had already put it at a high level.

"You sure it's okay to do that?" He groaned between gritted teeth.

"They told me it was okay if you ever had another fit of pain. Where does it hurt?"

"My head. Just my head," he let out a cry, threading the fingers of his free hand through his short hair and pulling on it.

She reached out and unthreaded his fingers, laying a hand on his head. She raced away and returned moments later with a cloth soaked in cool water. Placing it on his head was like pouring a bucket of water on a fire. Immediately his head calmed down, as did he. His hand left his head, brushing over her wrist. She jerked away at the touch, holding her hand to her chest.  
"What caused the pain?" She finally asked once he seemed to be much better.

"I think it was my question about what my name was."

"So you don't know what your name is?"

"No, I don't. I don't know anything. I don't know my name, where I'm from, where I am, who you are…" he trailed off as another pain shot through his head. He bit his bottom lip to keep the cry bubbling up in his throat from escaping.

"O-okay… um… get some sleep, I guess. We'll continue this some other time when you're more ready for it. Right now your body and brain doesn't seem to be in the best condition."

"Yeah, no shit," he snorted and she blinked in surprise.

"You've never spoken like that before."

"Well I've never been like this before, now have I? … no, seriously. Have I?" He looked up at her, worried.

"Not that I know of," she kicked the stool back from the side of the bed. Awkwardly standing there, she made use of her hands by tucking some of her loose hair back behind her ears. He settled back into bed, reaching up to move the wet cloth higher up on his head, glad for the freedom of his arm.

"Are you going to reattach my arm to my bed before I go back to sleep and you leave?"

"No. I see no reason to do so at the moment. If what you're saying is true, then you really pose no threat to me and the others in this building. In which case, your other arm may find freedom eventually."

"That-" a yawn cut into his sentence, "That would be nice," he murmured as he slid back into sleep. She stood there for a while longer, staring over his still body, wondering if he was being truthful when he said that he didn't remember anything. If that was the case, they couldn't get anything from him. The only thing they could do was to lock him up or use him as bait, perhaps, to draw out the rest of his team. But another glance down at him made her realize just how wrong that would be. If he was truly being sincere in his words then using him as bait would do nothing but hurt the both of them in the end.

She let out a groan and backed away from the sleeping man who, despite her best efforts to stop it, was bringing the slightest of blushes to her cheeks. Why did he, of all people, have to be the contractor they had been searching for? He had seemed so sweet and innocent those few times they had bumped into each other. Which, now that she thought about it, should have been really quite suspicious. It wasn't common to run into someone so many times in such a large city. If she had thought past the beating of her heart back then maybe all of this could have been avoided. But it was too late for that. It was too late to dawdle around in the past. She needed to talk to her teammates, to let them know what new things she had learned that day.

She also had to search for that Contractor that had been the attacker. He was still at large, as his star had apparently not fallen from the sky. Perhaps he had some kind of doctor on his side or one which he threatened. They would have to check in with all their known underground medics to check if any of them had encountered the Contractor and patched up that knife wound BK-201 had dealt him before falling back into the hole in the ground. She ran her hand through her ponytail and left his small curtained area, preparing her mind and body for the long workdays ahead of her.

* * *


	3. Welcome to Hell

The group peeked through the opening slit in the curtain to see the man scratching his left leg in glee, having finally gotten the cast removed from his leg to take out the stitches from the bullet wound. The skin of the wound was still an ugly, angry color, but it would eventually fade into nothing but a scar on the back of his calf instead. He felt the gaze on him and looked up to return it. Immediately, they awkwardly shuffled their feet, the focus of their eyes changing to anything but the man lying in the hospital bed, his left arm still handcuffed to the side of the bed. His attention returned to his leg after a second more of looking back.

He was grateful that they had permanently removed the cuff from his right arm, but the fact that he still had one on his left arm was greatly infuriating. He managed to keep his emotions in check, luckily, whenever he pressed the alert button to get their attention, and then waited for five minutes for a nurse to come and escort him to the bathroom. He could only imagine how long it would take for them to come if he had a real emergency besides an extremely full bladder. They didn't seem too keen of him for whatever reason.

Testing the cuff again, just in case it had somehow unlocked since he had last checked about five minutes earlier, he sat back with a sigh. It was as fastened as ever. It wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. His eyes roved over the inside of the curtain he knew all too well, his eyes drifting up to the celling. Was that crack there, by the light new? No, it had been there since the beginning. Letting out a sigh he glanced over to where the group of people was still standing, talking amongst themselves with heated whispers. One of them, a woman with glasses, he had seen a lot. She had been the one to question him a few weeks back, though it felt like years. The rest of the group he had seen sparsely, and they only seemed to come with the woman, who seemed to have an air of leadership about her. Their leader, maybe?

"-he's lying," the man's ears perked up as he heard the words drift over from their conversation. It was the first words he had heard from them. Shutting his eyes, he tried to concentrate everything on just trying to listen to what they were saying.

"His eyes – otherwise. I'm not – what to think," that was the woman this time around. He still hadn't gotten around to learning her name yet. He made a mental note to do so the next time they were alone or when she was asking him more questions he had no answers to. It was time for him to ask a few questions of his own.

"Look- asleep again," one of the men muttered and he could practically see their heads turn to look at him, even though his eyes were closed still.

He let them flutter back open, "Nope, just trying to listen to your conversation," he could barely suppress his grin at the identical shocked faces that slapped themselves on their faces. He settled for a small smirk instead. The woman was the first to recover, making her way over to the curtain and pulling it aside, giving him a look at much more of the area he was in on the other side of the curtain. The whole place was white, from the walls to the ceiling, to the floor. Even the doors were white. Too bad their knobs were a shining gold, contrasting against the colorless scene.

"Think you could get me some food? My stomach is telling me it's about lunchtime for me. She stared at him for a few seconds before nodding in reply. She sighed and pushed her glasses back further up on her nose, something he noticed she did when she was nervous of something. He tilted his head, looking up at her from his laid back position, wanting to ask her what was wrong, but knowing that really wasn't the best of things to be asking at this time, with all her men staring at them. So instead he gave her a toothed smile, "Thanks."

She frowned slightly before turning and leaving his area, fully closing the curtains closed behind her so he could no long peer out at the group. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He'd been trying to talk to her for the past few weeks, but he barely ever got any words out of her. All he got were questions thrown at him, which sometimes resulted in a massive headache. The group outside left, their shadow no longer casting on his curtain and he waited patiently for his food to arrive. He was just glad he was strong enough to feed himself now because the first time had just been awkward. Letting his eyes rest, he just listened to the sounds around him.

The rhythmic tapping of her shoes alerted him of her return and he snapped his eyes back open, staring at where she would come back through. The curtain was pushed aside by her elbow and his eyes lit up as he noted she was carrying two trays instead of one. She set them on the tray table and moved it over the bed so it was in place. Next, she tilted his bed into a sitting position and handed him a fork. He took it with a nod of thanks, staring down at the food. It was the same as usual, but he didn't really care. Just so long as he got food he was happy. Pulling up her regular chair, she sat down on it, perched on the edge of the seat, and crossed her legs.

"Two helpings, huh? I see that you're learning," he said with a smile before digging into the food in front of him as best he could. She blushed slightly at his words, but it went unnoticed by him, his full attention on his meal as he inhaled it. In no time he had finished what he had in front of him, but his stomach still growled for more. Knowing the drill by now, she collected the trays and left, returning a few minutes later with two full trays, setting them down in front of him. A few trips later and he sat back against his bed, a content smile on his face as he let out a satisfied sigh. He turned his head to speak to her, but she was already disappearing, the latest trays in her hand and his smile was replaced with a frown, figuring he had just lost the perfect opportunity for him to ask a few questions.

A nurse came to his side to make sure that everything was orderly and working correctly, giving the machines curt nods as she went through the list of what to do in her head. Finally, she concluded that everything was as it should be and left the area, reclosing the curtain behind her. He stared up at the ceiling of his small area before turning his head to the right, looking over at the bathroom door a few feet from his bed. They were really the only things to look at in this otherwise bland place and he was beginning to suspect that he was finding the color white quite repulsive after all this time lying in bed, swimming in the color. Half the lights clicked off, they never fully shut them all off, and he guessed it was their way of telling him it was time for sleep. Oh well, nothing better to do, he thought as he let his eyes slide closed.

* * *

He woke up later in a cold sweat, his sleep plagued by some nightmare he couldn't remember. It has slipped away like a ghost. He moved his arms and found, to his shock, that the cuff on his left arm was gone. Looking around in confusion, he noticed that the room was completely dark now, not a single light was on. Even the machines usually hooked up to him have been powered down, their small glows gone. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up, shaky on his feet and a grimace on his face, his hand automatically going up to his stab wound on instinct. Luckily, his left leg seemed to be faring well under his weight and, a few cautious steps later, he deemed it fine to walk on. Pushing the curtain away, he peeked around the fabric.

"Hello?" He called out into the darkness, his voice seemed oddly disturbing and out of place in the quiet, empty room. No reply came from the shadows and he reached up to harshly pinch his cheek to check if he was still sleeping. Of course he wasn't. All he got from the action was pain in his face. A few more hesitant steps and he was clear of his small area, finally in a new place he had never been in before. He padded hesitantly away from his comfort zone, his arms stretched out in front of him. He felt his hands slap against the cold wall and used that to slide his way around the room until he found the door. He turned the knob and found, to his shock once again, that it was open and unlocked. He was pretty sure they usually locked the door each night just incase he somehow miraculously escaped from his bed. Something was definitely not right here.

Looking over his shoulder where he knew his bed was, he pondered slightly what was happening. He wasn't dreaming so… why? A lump began to fill his guts as his instincts told him to get back into his bed and go back to sleep. On the other hand, however, his guts were telling him that he was hungry once more, letting out a growl to punctuate their point. Just one quick look around, maybe find the food, and he would come back to his room he promised himself, letting the door open, not a creak coming from its hinges. He tiptoed out, not really sure why he was trying to be so quiet, but it just seemed right to do so. He slid down the hallway, one hand on the wall so he could navigate through the pitch-black corridor. Where the cafeteria or whatever was, he had no clue, but he kept walking anyway, running his hands over the signs when he came to them, trying to make out the words cut into them.

Finally, he found what he was looking for and opened the door. This one actually let out a small creak as it swung open into the room. A few steps in and he almost tripped over a chair tucked under a table. He resorted to skimming around on the side of the room to get to the kitchen. The doors there had no knobs, he just had to push them open and they swung closed behind him as he walked further into the room. He opened a cupboard and reached in, his hand finding a bag that made a crackling noise. Pulling it out, he opened it to find that he was holding a large potato chip bag, much to his glee. He chowed down on the crunchy snacks until he had had his fill of them, almost half the bag. Setting it back, he brushed off the crumbs and started making his way back to his room.

It wasn't until he was back in the hallway did he remember that he had no clue which place was his room. He hadn't bothered to check the sign outside his door before he left. He pursed his lips, mentally cursing himself out as he made his way back the way he had come, nevertheless. He opened door after door peering into the darkness in hope that he felt some sort of familiarity in there. Peering into one of the rooms, he squinted trying to make out the shadows in there. It looked like a section of the room was curtained off, so he stepped into the room, making his way over to the area. He was right. There were curtains in the room, sectioning off part of it. Pulling them aside he immediately realized that this was not his room. He took a step back just as all the lights immediately snapped back on, blinding him momentarily. He blinked several times, taking a few steps back from the bed in front of him.

It looked nothing like a bed now that he could see it in the light, more like a place you would attach someone to for torture. The walls in the area were covered in all kinds of weapons and torture devices. It looked like something from a textbook about the middle ages. He turned around and, ignoring the protest of his wounds, ran out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. The lights in the hallway had been turned on as well and he noticed an exit sign on the wall, pointing to the left. He took off in that direction, loping down the hallway. He slammed himself against the door, throwing it open and finding himself stepping out into the cool night. He let the crisp air enter his lungs and he threw his head back, his eyes closed as he sunk into this new surroundings. It was peaceful out here, but not for long.

Harsh light snapped on, highlighting him with spotlights. He heard the click of guns and squinted to make out the shape of people moving around in front of him, guns drawn and level. They were prepared to kill him or gravely injure him if the need arose. Collapsing to his knees, he put his hands on top of his head, not even letting them have the chance to tell him to do that on their own. Someone made their way around him, forcing his arms down and behind his back, harshly putting cold, metal handcuffs around his wrists. He looked over his shoulder to see that it was one of the men that woman hung out with. He had a sort of smug look on his face as he fastened the cuffs so they fit tightly.

"This is for my shoulder, you son of a bitch," the man spat out, twisting the other's arms up, causing his to let out a cry of pain as he was lifted back to his feet and led back into the medical building. He was led back to the torture room, he noticed, his heart climbing in his chest as he struggled weakly against the man, all his strength leaving him. The door was thrown open, the curtain moved aside, and there was that place in all it's glory again. He shuddered, trying to pull back, struggling to get away from that horrific room, but he was shoved forward, stumbling onto the platform. The cuffs were removed, but not for long before he was positioned onto the thing, all his limbs strapped in and his head tied in place. And then they all backed off. He looked around in confusion, his eyes darting over the many weapons on the wall, sending a chill down his spine.

"You tried to escape," the woman voice floated over to him and his eyes swung over to her direction.

"Who are you people?" He choked out.

"Don't act like you don't know, BK-201," she growled, her eyes filled with anger and what looked like sadness, but it vanished before he could truly see it there.

"I don't! How many times do I have to tell you that? I don't know my name, I don't know you, I don't know any of the answers to those questions you keep asking me. No matter how many times you ask them, my answer will be the same: I don't fucking know!" He pulled against the binds, getting nowhere, before flopping back down, his strength leaving him.

"Get him to the examination room," another voice rang out as a man walked in, wearing a white lab coat, his curly hair a mess on his head, a lock of curls hanging down over his forehead, "We should begin immediately now that he is back to being healthy. I presume that  _she_  is ready and waiting in the lab to do her part of the job?"

Another doctor nodded her head, handing him a file filled with papers. He flicked it open with his thumb, fingering through the many documents before him before closing it once more with a snap.

"Oh, we are just going to have a load of fun with you, BK-201. We've been trying to get our hands on you for a while and here you are, practically waltzing towards us, wrapped up like a present. It's like you're begging for us to get out plans started. You really shouldn't have been so quick to protect the lives of these people," he waved his hands in the direction of the woman and her group, saying the word 'people' as though it was a distasteful word when referring to that group. He saw the woman give a frown, her hands clenched into tight fists.

"All right, take him," he laughed, clapping his hands gleefully, as if he was a small child finding a coin under a vending machine. A group grabbed the sides of the platform, wheeling him towards the door. He struggled pitifully against the binds, but his strength was long gone now. As he was pushed past the woman, she suddenly darted forward.

"Wait! Please let me have a few minutes with him before you do what ever it is you're doing," she frowned at her words, but her hands were grasping tightly onto his closest arm. He looked up at her, hope in his eyes, but she did not return the gaze.

The man sighed, rolling his eyes, "Very well, but only a few minutes."

The doctors trooped out of the room and, with a sideways glance to her men, they also left, the door shutting behind them. The quiet that followed was almost unbearable, but she finally broke it, her brow furrowed as she spoke.

"Why'd you try to run?" Her voice was soft, hurt almost.

"Because I walked into this room. Do I really need to give more of an explanation?" His eyes darted back to the torture devices hung up, "Why the hell do you have a room like this?"

"I don't deal with this part of the company, to be truthful, but I can think of a reason why," her gaze gave a once over of the room before finding his once more, "It's probably the same reason they're taking you to an examination room."

He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes momentarily before taking a shaky breath and looking back at her, "I'm going to die, aren't I?" He whispered, fear in his eyes.

She looked away, not able to look him in the eye, "I don't know. You're an interesting Contractor. They might now want you dead but I don't know what they'll do to you instead."

The weapons flashed through his mind, "Torture?"

She shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders, still not sure. Her grip tightened on his arm, as though she was trying to give him some comfort, but it wasn't helping. In fact, it seemed to be doing the opposite, since all it meant to him was that she was helpless. Moreover, where did that leave him? He was even more helpless than she was. He let his eyes slide closed as he tried to drown the emotions that welled up inside of him.

"I'm sorry," she said it so quietly he didn't hear it at first, but then she repeated it a little louder and he opened his eyes to look at her. This time he could see all the sadness, fear, and hurt in her eyes, clear to see, "I'll promise to get you out of here anyway I can, okay?"

"You trust me?" He managed to finally say and she gave him a weak nod in reply.

"I knew you as two different people. You both acted nothing alike, but now you've emerged out of it. You're like a mix of the two, but more innocent and helpless," he cringed at the word, but she didn't notice his discomfort, "Your eyes hold no lies when you speak. I know you Contractors are good liars but, for some reason, I trust you. Just as I trusted your civilian side. You lied to me a lot as him, but you never hurt me. You saved me quite a few times, really, as both personas. I probably wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for you," she bowed her head, her eyes falling into shadow.

"That sounded like a love confession," he managed to get out after a few moments of silence, trying to break the awkwardness that had settled around them. She whipped her head up, her cheeks blushing furiously as she looked at him, stammering for words. He offered a weak smile and she managed to let a small laugh bubble up from her throat. She squeezed his arm once more just as the door opened once more.

"Time's up, Kirihara-san," the man sang as he entered the room once more. A look of distaste crossed her face as her name left his lips. He shut his eyes, wanting to see no more as they wheeling him out of the room, his brow furrowed in fear. They pushed him for a while through the hallways until their pace slowed, moving him into a room. He opened his eyes a slit and noticed they were in a surgical room of sorts. His breathing came quicker, he was on the verge of hyperventilation. They stopped him in the middle of the room and applied the brakes, assuring that he wouldn't go anywhere, not that he could.

"Now, shall we begin?" The man said, reentering his line of sight and his eyes snapped fully open at what he saw. The man had put a mask over his face, his hair pulled back into a hairnet, but that single strand still hanging out over his forehead. He was wheeling over a small, metal table covered in surgical instruments from bone cutters to scalpels. He pulled weakly at the binds, trying to muster up his strength but finding it fell short. A gas mask was placed over his mouth, but it only had oxygen pouring out of it, nothing more. There would be nothing given to him that would ease the pain of what would become. The man removed some scissors from the table and he flinched as he neared his side with the weapons. But he only moved to cut off his shirt, removing the fabric once he was done and leaving the skin out against the air.

A woman was standing to the side of the room, a blank expression on her face as everyone milled about their room. Their eyes met for a split second but then her gaze shifted back to looking at nothing. One of the nurses dismissed her, letting her know that they'd call her back if they needed her. She nodded curtly and left the room, everyone continuing with what they were doing as if she had never been there at all.

"What should we start with first? Ah… how about a dissection?" The man picked up a scalpel, a smile dancing along his lips as he pressed the cold blade against his sternum, blood balling up as it bit through the skin. His head snapped back, a scream erupting from his throat as the pain ripped through his body. The man took no notice of the tremendous pain the man under him was in and continued his work, cutting a straight line down his chest, blood running down onto the surface of platform, all the while humming a small tune in the back of his neck as he continued his work.


End file.
